Ginny's Ghost
by Lee Velviet
Summary: Ginny is in her Seventh Year at Hogwart’s when she discovers the ghost of Lucius Malfoy’s twin brother Alaraby residing in the Astronomy Tower. They become close and Ginny decides to help him move on she doesn’t count on falling in love with him.
1. Default Chapter

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

Author: _Lee Velviet_

Disclaimer: _I own nothing! You know who luckily owns all this stuff - J.K. Rowling, etc, etc._

Summary: _Ginny is in her Seventh Year at Hogwart's when she discovers the ghost of Lucius Malfoy's twin brother Alaraby residing in the Astronomy Tower. They become close and Ginny decides to help him move on. She doesn't count on falling in love with him, or that Lucius might return when he hears of Alaraby's existence to finish him off for good._

(A/N: Give it a chance! Let me know what you think! - Lee)

- **Chapter One:** _The Death in the Tower_ -

Alaraby Faustus Malfoy looked at his brother Lucius over his wand angrily.

"This is beneath even you, Luc." He glared at his brother in disbelief. "How could you do this?"

They were in the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts. It was in the middle of the night, and the graduation ceremony for the seventh years was being held in the morning. Alaraby had come looking for his brother. He had a tendency to have to chase the wearisome young man and keep him out of trouble - he had promised his Mother on her deathbed after all. Nights like these, though…he shook his head wearily.

Lucius looked up from the cowering Ravenclaw girl beneath him and smirked at his brother. "What's wrong, 'Laraby? Jealous?"

"Let her go," Alaraby muttered through clenched teeth. "And then we're going to go see Dumbledore."

Lucius threw back his sLeek blonde head and laughed. "Right." He stood, looking down at the girl. "Get out of here - say a word to anyone and I'll kill you."

The pretty dark haired girl whimpered and scrambled to get up, barely looking at Alaraby as she ran past.

He kept his wand trained on his brother, his pale silvery eyes narrowed. "You've gone too far this time, Luc. I'm not covering up for you anymore."

Lucius withdrew his wand from his robes lazily. "I can't let you go spouting off about everything you've seen here, tonight."

Alaraby shook his head. "Voldemort has you thinking you're invincible, Luc." He eyed the black skull and snake freshly burned into his brother's exposed forearm. "You're not."

Lucius chuckled unpleasantly.

"What are you going to tell Narcissa? Don't you even care what she thinks?"

"You must be joking. The girl has a brain the size of a dehydrated pea." Lucius cocked his head thoughtfully. "She'll make the perfect wife - beautiful, and dumb as a box of rocks."

"You're going to marry Narcissa and here you are taking advantage of some poor sixth year with a misplaced crush?" Alaraby shook his head, looking at his brother in disgust.

Lucius shrugged. "She came up here of her own free will." He pointed his wand at his twin. "I gave you several chances to join us. I must say, I'm rather disappointed in you, 'Laraby. I don't know how you and I came from the same parents. You always have been sadly lacking in Malfoy honor."

Alaraby shook his head, unable to believe the show of arrogance. "Honor. You have a perverse sense of it, you twisted bastard. Mother would roll in her crypt if she knew you'd become a Death Eater. Once word of this gets out, you'll end up in Azkaban and bring shame to the family name - Father will disown you the moment he hears."

Alaraby looked at his brother pleadingly. "Think of what you're doing, Luc. For Merlin's sake, for once think of the consequences of your actions. You're throwing your life away."

Lucius looked at him coldly, his hand shaking in his sudden rage. "Leave it to you to bring Mother into this! You were always the perfect one, always the 'good' one." He took several steps forward, a sudden gust of wind from the balcony swirling around his black school robes.

"She loved you to her dying breath, you bloody stupid prat." Alaraby gritted his teeth, clutching his wand. "Let me help you."

Lucius looked at him almost sadly. "Sorry, 'Laraby. It's too bad you had be such a fucking wet blanket all the time. We could have been unstoppable."

"What the hell are you talking about - " Alaraby twisted around, eyes widening, as everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw a hooded figure at the top of the stairs leading into the tower, a wand pointed at him - And then there was a flash of green light and…nothing.

-

**Present Day Hogwarts, Seventh Year**

**-**

Ginny trudged up the stairs into the Astronomy Tower tiredly - it was fifteen minutes until curfew, and she'd realized she'd gone and left her Arithmancy book up there.

She yawned tiredly, thankful that Christmas vacation was only two weeks away. The massive load of homework was burning her out.

Ginny tugged hard on the cold iron ring in the big wooden door, and shivered slightly as it swung outward, groaning loudly on it's hinges.

She stepped inside, illuminating her way with her wand, and almost screamed when she saw someone standing there. "Oh!"

The figure turned her way, and then abruptly disappeared.

Ginny did scream then.

"Don't worry, Miss, it was only young Malfoy."

Ginny looked at Sir Nicholas thankfully as he hovered next to her on the steps outside of the tower. He'd popped up as soon as she'd yelled.

Ginny sat down, her heart racing from fear. "Draco? What would he be doing up here?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't being clear. The young Malfoy I'm speaking of is, er - " he shrugged, causing his head to flop slightly alarmingly on his neck. "Well, I'm afraid he's..._expired_."

"Oh." Ginny frowned, taking a deep breath. "I don't know why I yelled like I did, it's not as if I haven't seen ghosts before," she grinned at Sir Nicholas, looking at the stonewall right through him.

"It does get rather dark up here, Miss."

She looked around the dark stairwell, shuddering faintly. "Yes, I noticed." She looked behind her at the door and asked curiously, "You said there is a ghost named Malfoy in there? Why haven't I ever seen him or heard about him before?"

Sir Nicholas made a waving gesture with his hands. "He's not a terribly old ghost - he's only been here for, oh, twenty years, I suppose. He's not terribly sociable. Keeps to himself. Rather gloomy fellow if you ask me."

"Oh. Do you...know how he died?"

Sir Nicholas barely shook his head. "Voldemort. It was a wrongful death, I assure you. The boy was murdered, I believe. I never really asked, such an indelicate thing to talk about, you see. It's a shame, really, he was always a generous, thoughtful sort. He was in Gryffindor, you know."

Ginny looked at him, surprised. "A Malfoy in Gryffindor? That had to be a first."

"Oh, nay, not all from the Malfoy line have been such bad apples - though the good ones have been far and few between. No, I can't recall his name now, but he was the twin of Lucius Malfoy, if I remember correctly." He scowled. "Ahh, Lucius, now there was a bloody rotten one. You've never seen a set of twins so different from each other."

Ginny felt sorry for the boy. If he'd been haunting the tower for twenty years, that meant he'd died when he was...seventeen. She was now the same age as he'd been.

"How sad," Ginny shook her head, and reached for the door again. "I really do need to get my book," she said to the air apologetically as she stepped inside. There was no answer.

She felt eyes on her though, as she crossed the room to a desk. A warm breeze blew in from the balcony, and Ginny felt goose bumps race along her arms and legs as she reached for her book.

"Sorry to have disturbed you," Ginny found herself saying softly as she walked to the door.

Sir Nicholas was waiting outside.

"Thank you for coming to check on me, Sir Nicholas," Ginny told the ghost gratefully as they started down the stairs.

Sir Nicholas bowed, his hand clapped firmly on top of his head. "Of course, Miss."

At the bottom of the steps the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost, met them and he was looking rather urgent. "Sir Nicholas, Peeves has been at it again, and I can't find the Baron -"

Sir Nicholas made a sound of disgust and with a final bow to Ginny, floated off quickly with the round little ghost.

Ginny yawned and turned back around to look up the stairs leading to the Astronomy deck - her eyes widened when she saw the door at the top of the steps slightly ajar, and then it suddenly closed with a snap.

She backed away, her nerves jangling, and turned away, making quickly for the warmth and safety of Gryffindor Tower.

-

(A/N: Hi! Sorry this was so short, but I wanted to get some reactions on it before I bothered putting anymore into it - the story's a bit farfetched, I know, and Alaraby (I totally stole that name from someone on The Weakest Link!) isn't a real character, but I think he's got potential. Anyway, let me know what you think! Thanks! Lee)


	2. The Annual

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

Author: _Lee Velviet_

_-_

- **Chapter Two** - _The Annual_

_-_

The mystery of the ghost residing in the astronomy tower tickled at the edge of Ginny's thoughts all through the Christmas vacation, and by the time she returned from home to Hogwarts, she was itching to find out exactly why the ghost remained so very unsociable.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and although she had no intention of drawing any unwanted attention to the ghost, she did begin, upon her return, to ask about to see if anyone remembered him - but to her sad amazement, nary a one did.

It was odd…

Ginny found herself wandering into the library, where she dug through an enormous amount of old Hogwarts Annuals…until she came upon the year she was looking for.

She ignored the odd looks she received from Madam Pince, the librarian, and settled at a table with the thick volume.

Nearly sick with excitement, Ginny cracked the book open, and began pouring through the pages.

It took her several minutes to find him, for the book was so packed full of moving, happily waving pictures of Lily and James, Harry's parents, she had to look at each and every one she came across. They'd obviously been very popular in their years at the school. She wondered if Harry had ever seen the book…

She came across pictures of Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, looking out at her mischievously, and she scowled at one with Peter Pettigrew laughing in the background.

Ginny sighed sadly and then turned the pages determinedly, eyes scanning for anything that mentioned a Malfoy - and then she saw it.

A thumbnail sized picture of Lucius Malfoy, which she gaped at, for Draco certainly was the spitting image of his father. Looking at Lucius, even as young as he was, made her blood chill, and she shivered.

Her eyes drifted to the side, and she saw another picture. Again, it was a boy who looked exactly like Lucius Malfoy…and yet, entirely different. He looked enough like Draco Malfoy to have been the irritating little git himself. But there was softness about his eyes, a slight curl to his lips that was more a smile than a smirk…she wondered at the night and day difference between the two brothers.

"Alaraby," Ginny said to herself slowly. "Alaraby Malfoy, Aged 17, Gryffindor…Memoriam on Page 356."

She shook her head. God, what could have happened that Voldemort would have had to kill him? He'd been just a boy…but that fact hadn't kept the man from trying to kill Harry either over the years, had it?

Ginny turned to the Memoriam reluctantly, and gasped to see the larger version of the same picture smiling and winking at her from the page.

He was amazingly, wickedly good-looking. She giggled before she realized she was gaping at a black and white picture, and tore her eyes from it to read the script beside it.

"In Memory…Alaraby Faustus Malfoy…" Ginny skimmed through the dates, feeling unbearably sad, and read on. "All have felt the loss of our talented young friend, and, indeed he was friend to all of us. Alaraby knew not a stranger, and was a loyal and trusting Gryffindor to the end. He was a skilled Chaser, a promising Potions Master, a gifted wizard with many talents - not to mention many girlfriends!"

Ginny scanned the rest of the page, smiling often and then found the reason for the oddly light hearted memorial - it had been written by Sirius Black. There wasn't a word about Voldemort, or how he had died, anywhere.

Ginny again wondered why no one seemed to remember him. No one except the ghosts.

She looked down at the picture again, and felt tears well up for the loss of what seemed to be a very rare person.

Deciding to pay a visit to the ghost, she put the book away and walked out of the library.

No one who looked as honest and kind and as loving of life as he did should be allowed to wander that breezy, lonely tower all alone. He should never have been forgotten in the first place.

-

TBC

-


	3. 3 Alaraby

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

Author: _Lee Velviet_

_-_

- **Chapter Three** - _Alaraby_

_-_

Alaraby drifted in from the balcony, the silence pressing in on him from all sides.

It wasn't that he disliked the quiet - he actually preferred it to the noisy clamor of students rushing in and out of his tower during the day. It just hurt him, to see so many eager young faces, flushed with life, going about their day, their whole futures ahead of them.

It was just that, sometimes…it was rather lonely. He'd had many friends in life, had always been involved in something or other…and haunting the tower was dreadfully boring.

He snorted. As if he'd ever really 'haunted' anyone…

Well, there had been that one time he'd scared his nephew witless after he'd seen him trying to score with a somewhat unwilling partner he'd drug into the tower after hours…

Alaraby still couldn't get over how very much like Luc Draco had become…it was maddening. And he hadn't been able to do a damned thing to prevent it.

He had watched the small, pale, pointy faced boy arrive at the school in his first year, and had hoped his father hadn't truly gotten to him - but Draco had barely opened his mouth, and Alaraby had known nothing would help. The fact had only been hardened when he'd been sorted into Slytherin, after the Sorting Hat had barely touched his hair.

It had been disconcerting, watching the boy wander the halls from year to year, looking like a younger version of himself. It would have been like watching his life all over again, if the boy hadn't been so malicious and vindictive.

His nephew had wasted his teens being jealous and spiteful, and it had bothered Alaraby more than he cared to admit. The boy had had no idea what a gift he had been given, being able to live, and lead a natural life…and he'd had no respect for it, none. He'd left after his seventh year, and for all Alaraby knew, he'd gone off and become a bloody Death Eater.

Damn Lucius.

Alaraby settled into a chair behind a teacher's desk, and wondered if he'd ever get over feeling sorry for himself. How many years had it been since his death? Fifteen? Twenty?

He'd lost count somewhere.

A scrap of paper on one of the desktops caught his attention, and he leaned over to look at it. He smiled at the doodled cartoon on it - it was a hastily scrawled, less than flattering caricature of 'Sev' Snape, who was now the bloody Potions Master at Hogwarts, damn him. Back in the day, Alaraby had wanted to get that position himself, after school…he'd never wanted to leave Hogwarts.

It hadn't mattered though, had it?

Alaraby had never left.

He smiled bitterly as he stared at the horns someone had drawn on the top of Sev's head. He'd been a friend of the man's, once…they hadn't been terribly great friends, for Severus had been in Slytherin, and possessed of a dry wit, and a biting, sarcastic tongue, but their shared love of potions had given them something in common. Then the greasy bastard had gone and become a frigging Death Eater -

Alaraby forced the thought away.

He grinned. The drawing reminded him of all those times Sirius and Remus had gotten in trouble for drawing rude cartoons in class…

Alaraby turned his eyes away from the crumpled paper and lifted his feet to rest on top of the desk.

Closing his eyes, he tried to lull himself to sleep – well, it wasn't sleep really, but whatever it was, he didn't have to think while he was doing it. He'd actually 'slept' through a whole school term once, when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself.

Just as he drifted off, the door to the tower creaked open, and his eyes flew open.

She couldn't see him unless he wished it, but he was curious to see what her reaction would be, seeing him there.

It was the same girl, the same small, pretty little redhead from several weeks ago.

He watched her eyes widen as they settled on him and he smiled, folding his arms behind his head.

"Hullo."

Ginny looked at the apparition before her and felt faint. She clutched the doorframe, and stared.

The young man before her was unbelievably good looking - despite the fact that she could see right through him.

He soft deepness of his voice as he greeted her made her lose her breath…

"What? Would you rather I'd have jumped up and yelled 'boo'?"

Ginny shook herself and blinked at him, trying to find her voice.

"I know you can talk, I heard you scream a few weeks ago."

"A-are you teasing me?" Ginny watched him smile, slowly, and it was a thing of beauty.

"I suppose." The ghost very slowly looked her over, from the shoes on her feet to the top of her mass of red curls.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably, and stepped into the tower, shutting the door behind her.

"Er…am I…disturbing you?"

Alaraby looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eye and shook his head. "No."

"Oh." Ginny twisted her hands together and took several hesitant steps forward. "I know you like your privacy. Sir Nicholas told me…I just…wanted to meet you."

"I…see."

The ghost stood and drifted around the desk to settle on the edge of it. He looked at her and cocked his head to one side. "You're Molly and Arthur's girl, aren't you?"

"You...knew my parents?" She found this very odd. It was weird, thinking of her middle-aged parents walking around the halls of Hogwarts with this young man.

"We did go to school together," Alaraby stated dryly. "I had heard they'd gotten married after school - they've been keeping very busy, as many of you Weasley's as I've seen pass through here in the past years…" He pushed off the desk and came to hover near her. "I feel sorry for them about the twins, though. They looked like quite a handful. Reminded me of James and Sirius, sneaking about, pulling pranks…how are your parents, by the way?"

The nearness of his presence made her skin tingle, and the fine hair on her arms raised.

"Er…fine." Ginny was too intrigued by his ghostly appearance to make a longer statement. He wasn't made up of mostly just shades of gray and white, like the rest of the ghosts at Hogwarts, tinges of color remained in the tone of his skin, and clothing. He wore a plain black school robe open over his school uniform, and would have looked exactly like any other student, except for the fact that he was well - a ghost. Her eyes scanned his face, and she finally met his eyes straight on, and lost her breath again.

"Your eyes, they're silver, like -"

"Like Draco's, I know." He regarded her solemnly. "I - _we_ - that is, Luc and I…we inherited our mother's eyes." A sadness came into his expression, and Ginny was sorry she'd reminded him of something that made him feel that way.

Ginny realized she was still staring and dropped her eyes. "Sorry…I just can't get over how much Draco looks like you. It's bewildering."

"He may look like me, but he doesn't act like me, thank Merlin," Alaraby murmured. "He may be my nephew, but I don't have to like him, the snakey little bastard…he's just like Luc was when he was his age…"

Ginny wasn't quite sure what to say. She looked back at his face and her eyes widened when she finally caught sight of raw, ragged looking scar running along one sharp cheekbone.

"What happened to your cheek?" She asked before she could stop herself.

He suddenly drifted back from her several feet, and raised a trembling hand to his cheek, looking stricken. "I - I fell. When I…when I died, I fell…and scraped the side of my face on a desk."

"Oh - I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to - I mean, I–I hope I haven't offended you." She looked down at her feet and cursed inwardly. "I have a bad habit of being extremely curious."

"It's all right," said Alaraby softly, so softly she barely heard him. He spoke in an absent-minded fashion. "I had just…forgotten about that. Don't worry. It's not wrong to be curious."

Ginny glanced up to see him staring fixatedly at a spot a few feet before the door. She suddenly felt horrible. She'd wanted to see him, talk to him, and here she was, reminding him of the nasty details of his undoubtedly awful death.

'_Good going, Gin,'_ she muttered inwardly.

"Alaraby? I'm going to go. I'm sorry I bothered you."

He looked back at her with clouded eyes before he asked, "How did you know my name? No one has called me by my given name in decades."

Cheeks burning, Ginny dropped her eyes to her clasped hands. "After I talked to Sir Nicholas, and came back after the Christmas vacation, I-I went to the library and looked through the old school annuals."

"Very clever, aren't you?" He watched her for several long moments and then sighed. "Well, off you go, then."

Ginny turned and had her hand on the door handle when he spoke, gently, from over her shoulder.

"You'll come speak with me again, won't you?"

She closed her eyes and swallowed at the note of hopefulness in his voice. "Of course."

"Good. I'll be waiting."

Ginny uttered a quiet goodnight, and then fled the tower, her heart beating like rolling thunder in her ears.

-

TBC

-


	4. 4 Bittersweet

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

_-_

**- Chapter Four -** _Bittersweet_

_-_

"Alaraby?"

Ginny stepped into the Astronomy tower hesitantly, closing the door behind her. The ghost was not in sight.

"Hullo? Alaraby, are you here?" She crossed the floor slowly, passing between desks to the balcony. She pushed back the doors, and saw him outside, on the far end of the balcony.

Ginny gnawed her lip, hesitating, before she went outside, trying not to feel as if she were invading his privacy.

She approached him slowly.

He floated slightly above the stone terrace with his back to her, his hands clasped behind him as he watched the lake and the river running into it, far below.

Ginny felt a chill run through her as she saw the blazing colors of the setting sun in the sky beyond right through him.

"Hullo, Ginny."

The quiet words sent an odd tingle up her spine.

"Hi. I'm not bothering you, am I? Because I could leave - "

The ghost turned and smiled at her, shaking his head. The flashing silver of his pale eyes made her breath catch painfully.

"No, don't leave. I wasn't doing anything but remembering things that there isn't any point in remembering."

Feeling flustered, Ginny smiled tightly, and crossed the long wide balcony to stand at the waist high stone railing.

The scene below was breathtaking. The land below was so far away that it seemed surreal. The landscape was pure white, and the lake and river were frozen into sparkling bits of crystal.

Slightly dizzy from the sight, Ginny grasped the railing to steady herself.

"Hey, be careful - this wall is old, and crumbling a bit in places," Alaraby said gently, very close to her ear.

She jumped away from the railing and settled herself on a snowy stone bench, taking a deep breath of the frigid winter air.

"You all right? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm all right. I guess I just never really realized how high up this tower was." Ginny looked around, shivering slightly, and swallowed. "It's really beautiful out here."

Alaraby drifted in front of her, and she looked up at him with a smile. His silvery blond hair seemed to move in the cold wind.

"You should see it in the summer. The river is sparkling up at you from below, and the lake is so clear, you can see the giant squid moving about in it. And everything is green."

"You'll have to show me one day," Ginny said, rubbing her hands to keep them warm.

"Right, before you leave.it is your last term here, isn't it?" He stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Yes. I hate that I'm leaving, though. For everything that has happened here, I still think of it as being home. I don't want to go. I wish I never had to leave." Ginny laughed and stood up as the cold air finally proved too much for her. "Silly of me, isn't it?" She looked up him as the night began to fall all around them.

"No, not really - I felt the same way. Guess I'm proof that one should be careful what they wish for."

Ginny rubbed her arms and abruptly walked away towards the doors. "I've got to get back inside, I'm freezing."

He followed her back in, and watched as she closed the balcony doors.

"So what are you going to do once you leave?"

"Well, I'm going to go to the Wizarding University and get a degree so I can hopefully come back here to teach," she said laughingly.

Alaraby grinned. "What did you want to teach?"

"Anything except Arithmancy - I'm awful at that. Even Hermione told me it was hopeless, and that's saying something. Hermione could teach a cat to do handstands."

He laughed, and the sound seemed rather rusty, as if he hadn't done it in a long , long time.

"You're magnificent, Ginny Weasley," Alaraby told her, his eyes sparkling. "You're like that first ray of sunlight through the clouds after an autumn thunderstorm."

She blushed wildly at the compliment, and shook her head. "I'm not, really."

"You are. When I'm talking with you.you make me forget what I am. You make me wish things were different."

Ginny had to look away from his suddenly intense gaze, the warm, sincere huskiness of his tone making her skin prickle. Well, it was obvious why Alaraby Malfoy had had so many girlfriends, she thought wryly.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," the ghost murmured awkwardly, withdrawing slightly.

She could almost see his form fade before her eyes, and she took a hasty step forward. "Alaraby, wait - don't go."

He stopped, and hovered reluctantly.

"I - I like you, too." Ginny bit her lip, giving him an embarrassed grin.

Looking surprised at her confession, he blinked, and then a corner of his lips turned up faintly.

"I'm glad, Ginny - but I do have to go. I have to...rest."

She obviously failed to hide the look of disappointment on her face, because he moved forward, until he was so close she could have touched him with very little effort.

He seemed more substantial up close, less ethereal; it was very tempting to her suddenly to try and touch him, and she had to concentrate on keeping her hands at her sides.

"Maybe - maybe we should agree on a time to meet again,' she heard him say in a soft, hesitant voice.

"Tomorrow, possibly? After classes?" Ginny dropped her eyes from his, feeling foolish for sounding so hopeful.

"Well, you know where I'll be," Alaraby murmured, dry humor lacing his words.

"Right." She felt his presence move away, almost as if he were a completely tangible being, but couldn't bring herself to watch him fade away to wherever he went.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Ginny," she heard him say quietly, in such a serious manner that she did look up, "but I almost wish you hadn't come looking for me."

"Why?"

He was barely discernable in the shadows, now, but she was still able to make out the bittersweet smile on his sharply handsome face.

"If you hadn't found me, I wouldn't be thinking about trying to be something I'm not - and I wouldn't be thinking about trying to have something that was never meant to be mine."

Ginny stood in the darkening tower room for long minutes after he was gone, feeling stunned - she knew something incredible had just happened, but she was unable to figure out what, exactly.

-

TBC

-


	5. 5 Falling

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

-

- **Chapter Five** - _Falling_

-

_Alaraby._

Ginny woke up with his name in her head. It was still dark – she rose quietly from her bed, and crept with a smothered yawn to the window to look outside.

It was very early. The sun hadn't yet begun to lighten the sky.

She looked out over the grounds and barely made out the smoke rising from the chimney of Hagrid's hut. A low, flickering light burned warmly inside, painting the small windows with amber.

Hagrid! He'd been there! He'd remember Alaraby, surely.

Ginny dressed hastily, and made her way quietly from the tower. She crept across the snow covered grounds, feeling her cheeks grow numb in the frigid air, and knocked softly at the door.

Inside, she heard Fang bark once, sharply, before Hagrid shushed him, and opened the door.

"Well, lit'l Ginny! What're you doin' out 'ere so early?"

She smiled up at the half-giant and as he stepped back from the door to let her inside.

"I didn't think anyone 'sides Fang and me got up this early," he rumbled companionably as he absently rubbed his nose and lumbered across the room.

Ginny bit her lip thoughtfully as he waved her into an oversized chair by the warmth of the fire. She watched him in indecision for a moment as he added more wood to the blaze.

"So? What brings ya' by?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Hagrid – "

"You ain't no bother, Ginny – it's been a bit lonely 'ere, now tha' yer brother an Harry, an Hermione are gone on. Miss 'em, I do."

"Me too,' said Ginny wistfully, and then she blurted abruptly, "Hagrid, do you remember a student who went here by the name of Alaraby Malfoy?"

Hagrid's smile dropped.

"Oh, I've gone and said something horrible, haven't I?"

"No, no. I just haven't heard tha' name in years." Hagrid settled himself in a chair across from her and scratched his head thoughtfully. Fang whined and padded over to rest his huge head on his master's lap.

"I – I know he died. I mean, when Voldemort was first rising – "

Hagrid winced slightly. "I'll never get used ter hearin' tha' name spoke out loud." He shook his head, and cleared his throat loudly. "Aye, he did…he was killed by 'him'. James, Harry's father, found him. He an Sirius. T'were a real blow. 'Laraby, why, he was friends with everyone. He were kinda' close wit' them boys."

"J-James and Sirius? Found him?" Asked Ginny faintly. She closed her eyes.

"That's horrible."

"Yeah, it were."

"Well, why doesn't anyone seem to remember him, Hagrid? I've asked almost everyone about him, save for you and Dumbledore."

"No one wants 'ter remember, Ginny. It were a big scandal back then, a student dyin' at Hogwarts. Hadn't happened since – well, blimey, since poor Myrtle. His death were a reminder that even Hogwarts weren't completely safe. That was when Dumbledore officially began tightenin' the wards around the grounds."

Ginny shivered. "Poor Alaraby. It's no wonder he sounded so lonely." It must have been terrible for him, watching his friends move on. It was cruel.

"What?"

She frowned. "He's a ghost, Hagrid – didn't you know? No, of course you didn't," she corrected herself.

Hagrid looked at her in surprise, his bushy brows arched. "Well, I'll be buggered. I never saw 'im, not in all this time."

"I saw him by mistake," Ginny hurried to explain. "Sir Nicholas told me about him, a-and I talked to him last night."

"I wonder why he never showed his self – " Hagrid began thoughtfully, and Ginny, well aware of his inability to keep secrets, hastened to explain.

When it was time for her to go, Ginny turned to Hagrid with a pleading look.

"Hagrid – perhaps it's best we keep this between us? It's his choice to remain unseen, and I really think it's best to go along with his wishes, don't you?"

"Er – o'course, o'course." Hagrid chuckled, and laid his hands over his stomach. "No one'll be hearin' anythin' from me, you can believe tha'."

Ginny smiled weakly and wrapped her scarf around her neck as she stepped out into the frozen day, trying her best to quash a sudden feeling of dread.

She only hoped she wouldn't come to regret her impulsive visit to her old friend.

-

Ginny tried to concentrate on what Professor Sinistra was saying about the alignment of Mars and Jupiter, but something cool and tingly was tickling at her ear.

She rubbed her ear, and went back to taking her notes, but the odd sensation stubbornly returned, and she frowned, looking up to see if she could locate the source of the disturbance, but there was no draft, and her curls were tucked into a loose ponytail at the back of her head.

Ginny felt her eyes widen as her quill began moving of his own violation on her parchment.

**_'Hi there.'_**

She grinned, and stole the quill back.

**_'Alaraby?'_** She wrote, her hand trembling slightly.

This time her hand moved of it's own accord.

**_'Who else?'_**

**_'What are you doing?'_**

**_'I'm bored.'_**

**_'You had me scared for a second there.'_** She wrote back.

_"I'm sorry. Still meeting me after classes?"_ This time he whispered in her ear, so low and so close that it made her tremble.

Ginny swallowed, and nodded. The girl seated next to her gave her an odd look.

_"I'll see you later, then." _

She only just felt Alaraby's friendly, husky, nearly nonexistent laugh tickle along the rim of her ear, and then he was gone.

Her heart was slamming against her ribs, as she stared unseeingly at her notes, but it definitely wasn't from fear.

When Ginny returned to the tower later, she was surprised and dismayed to discover Professor Sinistra still in residence.

She stammered an excuse to the teacher, and let herself out of the tower room feeling mightily disappointed.

She was at the base of the stairs when Alaraby appeared out of nowhere, making her jump.

He looked instantly contrite. "Ginny, I'm sorry – I just wanted to catch you before you left."

Ginny pressed a hand to her chest and smiled weakly. "It's all right."

"I wasn't expecting Sinistra to stick around like that."

"Me either." Ginny twisted her hands together, and stared at the floor.

"I'm up here, you know," Alaraby said quietly, sounding amused.

A blush stained her cheeks as she looked up at him quickly. The humor in his odd silvery eyes made her grin unwillingly.

"Have you realized you've actually left your tower?" She finally observed.

Alaraby looked up the winding stairs and shrugged. "I venture out occasionally – if there's good reason," he added with a slow wink.

Ginny giggled girlishly before she cut herself off with a rusty snort. "Now look at what you've gone and done – made me laugh – "

"And this is a bad thing?" He arched a brow at her.

"Isn't it? I mean, Ron always says I sound like a door with squeaky hinges," she confessed ruefully, absently lifting a hand to stroke her throat. "And you do _not_ want to hear me sing – "

At which point Alaraby threw his arms wide, and his head back, and began to sing very loudly, and terribly off key, an old Muggle song Ginny recognized as being "Sweet Caroline".

Ginny was hard pressed not to clamp her hands over her ears. "Ugh! Stop, stop, _stop_!" She said before he could launch into another verse. "And I thought my ears bled when _I _sang!"

There was a wicked expression about his eyes suddenly that reminded her uncomfortably of Draco in that moment – if she remembered correctly, it was that look the older boy had had right before he pulled something _extremely_ underhanded.

She was falling, _so_ fast_. Too fast_.

"Well, we're well matched then, don't you think?"

Ginny eyed him crossing his arms suspiciously. "What are you thinking?"

"What are you on about? Nothing at all…" Alaraby looked back over his shoulder thoughtfully, and then slid his eyes back to look at her consideringly.

Ginny gulped as she watched a corner of his lips lift in a slight, confident smirk that made her abdomen ache.

Correction: she _had_ fallen. And _hard._

"Well…since our meeting place had been invaded…what do you say about taking a little walk?"

"Wow."

Ginny lay on her back in greenhouse number five, staring up at the night sky through the amazingly clear panes of glass. The warmth and humidity of the greenhouse should have made the panes overhead foggy, but the sky remained visible – and what a sky it was!

"It's unbelievable," she told Alaraby in a hushed voice as he drifted in a relaxed position a few inches from the ground beside her. He had his arms crossed behind his head, and was gazing at the starry sky in a solemn manner.

"It is – I'd forgotten what the view was like from here," he sighed softly.

Ginny could see memories flashing through his mind, and she searched quickly for another subject.

"I bet you brought all the girls here," she commented teasingly, and then bit her lip hard. She hadn't meant to bring _that_ particular issue up, certainly!

Alaraby turned his head to look at her and laughed huskily, his eyes hooded lazily. "_Jealous_?"

Ginny made a disgusted sound and hastily resumed staring at the brightly winking stars.

Alaraby chuckled again, the sound making every last bit of her skin tingle.

It was so quiet for so long that Ginny, warmly wrapped in her robes and cloak, head pillowed on her arms, relaxed as she'd never been in another person's company, slowly began to doze.

The knowledge that he was right beside her was enough to keep a tiny smile curled about her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

Alaraby moved onto his side, and rested his head on one hand as he watched Ginny succumb to sleep.

He shook his head as he caught himself reaching out to touch her.

A long forgotten habit.

Little Ginny Weasley would have been horrified to know just exactly how many girls he'd brought to that very same greenhouse when he'd been living.

He smiled at his memories, trying and failing to keep a prideful smirk from his lips.

He'd definitely been a lover, not a fighter, he thought to himself ruefully as his eyes skimmed her fine features in the moonlit darkness.

Maybe if he hadn't spent so much time romancing the ladies, and practicing his counter curses instead, he'd have managed to grab his ass and run in the tower that night…

Maybe. Right.

He'd never had run, even if he could have made it. Too much pride for that. _"Big heart, small brain,"_ Luc would have sneered.

Alaraby sighed, and found himself staring at the young red-head's full pink lips, parted slightly as she drew in deep, even breaths.

It really wasn't a good idea, letting her get attached to him…but who the hell was he _kidding_? _He_ was the one getting attached.

And she'd be gone within the year.

Alaraby tilted his head a bit to take a curious male study of her still form, and nodded slowly in appreciation. The girl was absolutely flawless – and he knew flawless. She was a stunner – and he again wondered why none of the guys in Hogwart's didn't have her physically attached to them at the hip.

If he had been alive, she'd have been in serious trouble…

The thought made him grin again, breifly.

Unable to help himself suddenly, he moved closer to her, allowing his hand to hover ever so slightly above her jaw, as his eyes ran over her silken looking skin, the long, thick fringe of reddish brown lashes laying on her lightly freckled cheeks.

He felt an odd ache in his chest as he stared at her, and felt his earlier despair return as he looked longingly at her fall of shiny, incredibly soft looking curls.

What was he going to do without her?

-

TBC

-


	6. 6 Haunted

_**Ginny's Ghost**_

-

**- Chapter Six -** _Haunted_

_-_

(A/N: A little note, the following epitaph I found in a book somewhere, a looong time ago, and just had to copy it down, though I already knew it by heart. I don't know _who_ wrote it, so that's why it's not credited).

_-_

_"Do not stand at my grave and weep;_

_I am not there, I do not sleep._

_I am a thousand winds that blow,_

_I am the diamond glints on snow._

_I am the sunlight on ripened grain,_

_I am the gentle autumn's rain._

_When you wake in the morning's hush,_

_I am the swift, uplifting rush of quite birds in circled flight._

_I am the soft star that shines at night._

_Do not stand at my grave and cry;_

_I am not there, I did not die."_

Draco Malfoy stood before the well-known vault in the Malfoy family crypt, and again let his eyes drift over the epitaph he'd memorized long ago.

Alaraby Malfoy – his father's twin brother, his little mentioned uncle, who'd died at the young age of seventeen – just a little under a year younger than Draco was now.

The lucky bastard.

Draco took a drink out of the bottle he held in his hand, a small smile curling his lips as he thought of what his father would say if he could see him. Lucius had always been after him about his fascination with death, with dead people, dead things – ghosts. He'd long ago ordered him to stay away from the crypt, and Draco had always thought it very odd that his father actually cared – he never complained about whatever else he did, or how he spent his time otherwise, as long he made high marks, and practiced playing Quidditch. The fact that his father had always forbid him to go down into the crypt had only made him like the cold, dark, dusty stone place even more.

It had seemed to him, even as a small boy, that his father had been trying to hide something down there – he'd only just found out recently, that he'd been feeling a bit of guilt – not very much, to be sure, but enough to make any reminder of the wrong he'd committed make him a bit…_testy_…and Draco continually going down to the crypt always _made_ him remember.

Draco had been at one of his father's death eater meetings – he'd always managed to avoid them before, but that night he had been 'obliged' to attend.

His father had gotten drunk, which had been an unprecedented event since before the – _permanent_ – fall of the dark lord, and he'd begun blathering on in a very unwise manner. He'd had found out that Lucius had had a hand in murdering his own twin brother. His _only_ brother. His only sibling, in truth…

So here he was, eyeing the bitterly cold black granite stone with his uncle's name carved in into it, and wondering exactly what the other boy had done that was so wrong his own brother had helped Voldemort to murder him.

He tilted his head slightly, and leaned back against his great grandmother's resting place. On second thought, he didn't suppose it would have taken very much to cause his father to fly into one of his rages, and practically hand his own brother over to the power hungry heir of Slytherin. No, it probably hadn't taken very much at all. After all, he himself carried the marks as a result of several of those rages, and also the knowledge that the only reason he was alive was because his father had been rendered incapable of begetting another heir, not long after he had been born.

It had been made very clear to Draco, on many occasions as he'd been growing up, that he was considered to be a less than satisfactory son, and a terrible disappointment – especially those times during his schooling years that he'd failed to beat Harry Potterat Quidditch.

Draco took another drink, wincing at the raw, rough taste of the whiskey, and welcomed the chill of the stone that invaded the skin on his back through the thin white shirt and black cloak and robes he wore. It was helping remind him that he ought to remain sober. He had places to go, and people to see that night, and if he attempted to disapparate with his head not on right, he'd most probably end up splinching himself, just like Crabbe had done that time just after the Commencement ceremonies at Hogwarts the previous year.

Now _that_ had been a bloody mess…just the memory of seeing the huge oaf disappear, leaving the greater portion of his lower abdomen and legs behind, made Draco hastily recap the bottle of Ogden's, and tuck it back into his deep robe pocket -

"_Draco!_ Are you down there, boy?"

- and just in time, apparently.

He could have disapparated without his father ever having known he was there, but where was the fun in that?

A perverse smirk crossed his lips as he calmly called out. "Yes, I'm here, father."

Heavy footfalls on the ancient stone steps echoed through the crypt, and shortly, Lucius Malfoy made his imposing appearance.

Draco didn't bother straightening from his relaxed pose against the stone vault. "Were you looking for me?" he asked with a deliberate yawn.

"Don't you give me that cheek, boy, I'll carve my response into it with a dull blade – how many times do I have to tell, this…_place_, is off limits?" Pale silver eyes flickered about the torch-lit walls almost nervously.

"Oh, I apologize, father – I only came to visit mother," Draco drawled easily, which was an outright lie. His mother's vault was on the far, opposite side of the crypt – and he was within arms reach of Alaraby's.

The slowly building rage in Lucius's face made Draco suppress a snide chuckle.

"I don't see why you hate this place, so, father," he said in a bored voice. "I mean, it's supposed to be a place of eternal peace. It's supposed to be…restful." He cast a meaningful look at the elaborately carved stone vault which held his deceased uncle, and then looked back at his father thoughtfully.

"Although…there is a bit of unease in the air, just here…I wonder, _why_ is that?"

"I've killed men for lesser things, Draco – don't push me," Lucius rasped, eyes narrowed, one hand fisting against his chest as if he were in extreme pain. The other hand steadied him against the wall. The elder Malfoy looked weak in that moment, as if the place of death was sapping his strength.

Draco shrugged, unconcerned, and stood from his leaning position, crossing his arms. "Didn't mean to offend, father. I was just commenting that there seems to be a rather heavy stench of guilt upon the air, suddenly – "

Lucius had his wand in his hand in an instant, and he pointed it at his son, speaking through his clenched white teeth. "Insolent, ungrateful brat! You know nothing!"

Draco rolled his eyes expressively, wondering obstinately if he could indeed enrage his father to the point that he'd attempt to murder him. "If you're going to kill me, for god's sake, just get it over with, will you? I'd love thing better than to oblige you by dying an untimely death and ending crammed in a box with one of my esteemed ancestors to rot, but if you aren't going to do it, I'm afraid I'll have to say goodnight. I do have other obligations, other places to be."

Lucius dropped his wand with a soft snort, some of his anger seeming to leave him. "What manner of son are you, Draco, _asking_ for death, provoking me? You know very well I can't kill you."

Giving a short, mocking bow from his waist, the younger man smiled benevolently, but his maliciousness glittered in his gray eyes. "Terribly sorry to inconvenience you, father. Here's a thought – perhaps you should marry me off to some deliciously leggy ice-princess, from a Wizarding family of good name of course, wait for me to beget an heir on her, and then have me take an expedient swan dive from some god-forsaken high tower – "

"Silence! By Slytherin's serpent, I swear, you push me too far! To think I was actually proud of you, once, that I promoted that fiendish arrogance of yours!"

"Fiendish, really?" Draco arched a brow calmly.

"Do you fear nothing, boy?"

"I think it's safe to say you beat any fear I might have felt out of me long ago," he responded lightly. "What is there to be afraid of, anyway, father? Death? Life is _too_ long, in my opinion…I'll go most happily, when the time comes, I'm sure."

Lucius regarded him in disbelief. "If you start spouting off about killing yourself, I'll have you locked up – "

"Put away the chains, father, I have no intentions of killing myself – if I did that, could you imagine the satisfaction the likes of Potter would feel?" Draco walked forward, past his father, to stand in the cold winter air pouring down the steps above, from the entrance to the crypt. "No, suicide is not bloody likely." He started up the steps, not bothering to draw his cloak closed against the freezing elements.

"Where do you think you're going, boy? I have a task, for you." His father all but snarled behind him.

"A task?" Draco looked back over his shoulder with very little interest. Lucius had an odd, fevered look in his crystalline eyes, his skin a pallid, sallow shade, drawn tight over his sharp cheekbones. The crypt was getting to him, as it always did when he strayed into its depths, which wasn't often at all.

"Why else would I come down here myself to find you?" The older blonde put away his wand, and cast a contemptuous glance around, before shrugging his shoulders more comfortably within the confines of his heavy black coat, and ascending the steps behind his son.

Draco waited until his father drew even with him, and then continued up the well-worn, snow-dusted steps beside him.

"Well? What kind of task is it? Something appropriately wicked, I trust?"

He knew something odd was going on when he watched his father smile form the corner of his eye as they reached the ground level. The transformation that overcame the man was as they exited the crypt into the night air was distinctive. The tight, corpse-like appearance disappeared almost immediately, and the eyes that had been slightly sunken, and wide, burning with hellfire and brimstone, returned to their cold, heavily hooded state – imperturbable, unaffected.

"Not at all wicked, Draco…I've been out, and I recently overheard some disturbing news. I just want you to go somewhere, see if there is any truth in the …rumor."

No stranger to acting on his father's behalf, Draco gave an exaggerated, uninterested sigh. "And where might that be?" He withdrew his gloves from an interior pocket, and drew them on lazily.

Lucius came to a halt on the frost-laden gravel garden path, and turned to face him, his long mane of silver hair shimmering with a ghostly glow in the full moonlight.

"How do you feel about…teaching?"

That gave Draco pause. He looked up from a regretful rip in the palm of one of his gloves, and fixed his father with a sour look. "Me? Teaching? You _must_ be joking. Just where the hell is this 'place' you want me to go?"

The former Death Eater's smile turned malevolent in an instant, perfect, sharp white teeth glinting shark like in the near darkness.

"Hogwarts."

-

Ginny thought she was seeing things one late March morning as she was headed to double potions – through the crowds of black robed students, hurrying about the dungeon corridors, she kept catching a glimpse of familiar, sleek blond hair.

Her nerves were all but screaming by the time she made it to Snape's classroom. She was seeing things, she had to be…Draco Malfoy was not at Hogwarts, he had no reason to be! But how else could she explain that distinguishing shade? The boy she'd seen only from behind, and from a great distance, but even she could recognize that hair color, and the height had been far too advanced for him to be a new first year…she tried to convince herself that it must be an exchange student.

Her false hopes fell flat as soon as she took her usual seat in the front row, and a too recognizable, pale young man exited the entrance into Snape's office, a fiercely frowning Professor directly behind him.

An excited chatter started in on the Slytherin side of the classroom, while several of the sixth year Gryffindors groaned out loud.

Tiffany Fortin, another sixth year whom Ginny had befriended at the beginning of the first term, made a rude noise from next to her. She leaned over to her ear, letting her long, honey-brown curls fall forward to hide her face.

"Bloody hell, I thought we'd gotten rid of that git for good last year," she hissed, sounding unrepentantly annoyed.

Feeling the blood drain from her face, and her stomach lurch, Ginny could only manage a slight nod in return – her mind was whirling in a hundred different directions at once. Why was Malfoy here? Of all places – her troubled discussion with Hagrid weeks earlier leapt to mind with horrifying clarity. She stared straight ahead as Professor Snape announced in his usual sour manner, that Malfoy would be his teaching assistant for the next three weeks, in preparation for his final examinations to receive his professor's degree.

Another long-suffering, loud groan rose in unison from the Gryffindors, while the Slytherin's cheered and gloated – they had had the added bonus of _two_ Slytherin biased teachers, instead of just the one – it was a banner day for their house. It may as well have guaranteed a house cup win for them this year.

Feeling as if she were stuck in some nightmare, Ginny felt a drop of perspiration run from the hair at her temple. The winner of the house cup was the least of her worries at the moment. She had to do something, she didn't know what, but her panic was overtaking her – what if Draco had found out about Alaraby through Hagrid? What if Lucius knew? Who knew what the man might do – oh, god, it was all her _fault_ – everyone knew poor Hagrid just couldn't keep a secret!

Tiffany nudged her shoulder. "Hey…are you okay? You look like you're going to throw up, or something. Not that I blame you – just looking at that slimy, smarmy lot over there makes me feel more than a bit queasy myself."

Ginny swallowed, her mouth dry as she stared at the hem of Draco Malfoy's long black robes. She fought to keep the tremble she felt in her chest out of her voice as she shook her head, and took up her feather quill. "I'm fine, really. This just…it's a surprise," she answered faintly, and Tiffany snorted.

"Surprise? I'd describe it more as being a ruddy _ambush_. Honestly, what a craptacular way to end our last year – too bad Harry isn't still around the place."

Ginny suddenly wished that he was, too, as she inadvertently locked eyes with Malfoy. God, it was like staring at an evil version of Alaraby. The dark mirror image of the boy she'd come to fall completely and utterly in love with – and could never have. It was unsettling in the extreme…

Malfoy hadn't changed a bit since the previous year – he was a bit taller, broader through the chest and shoulders, but his faintly bored, 'I'm-going-to-get-you' expression was exactly the same. With his monochromatic coloring, he looked as if he'd been carved from unyielding ice – and his glinting, silvery eyes resembled diamond-hard bits of the clearest crystal.

She found herself unable to break the gaze. She couldn't help but see Alaraby standing in his place, see him in the curve of his jaw, the familiar, brooding brow, the graceful length of his pale hands and fingers…Alaraby in the flesh, living, breathing…able to _touch_ her.

Malfoy smirked at her as Professor Snape began his usual pre-lesson oratory, and the spell was thankfully broken – Draco was _not_ Alaraby.

Ginny dropped her eyes to her notes, and clenched her jaw against the hot sting of tears.

Draco wasn't _anything_ like Alaraby – and she didn't want him to be.

Her fingers clutched her quill convulsively, and the fragile thing snapped in her hand.

"Clumsy, Weasley – look what you've done to your quill," a chilly voice suddenly murmured in her ear, and Ginny jumped, her head snapping up and around to find Malfoy bending over her, one hand resting flat on the edge of her desk. His eyes slowly traveled over her face, and then he smiled – not in a nice way, either. The way his sensuous, pale pink lips curved was positively cruel.

She felt her heart skid to a painful stop as he used his cool fingers to pry hers apart, and take the two pieces of her quill into his – in a quick sleight of hand, he replaced it, once again whole, on the parchment before her.

Ginny gave a shudder that Malfoy actually seemed to feel. He adopted a false look of concern, and patted her arm, and she was dismayed to feel her skin both burn and crawl beneath her sleeve.

"What ever is wrong, Miss Weasley?" he asked in low drawl. "You look as if you were a child seeing her first…_ghost_."

She stared as his eyes narrowed into wicked slits, and he moved away to assist Snape with the lesson.

"What was _that_ all about?" Tiffany whispered in confusion, obviously feeling the tension fouling the air.

"He…he knows," was all Ginny could choke out, breathless with anxiety. "Sweet Merlin…he _knows_."

This was why Alarby was hiding, wasn't it? Was he worried his brother would find out he was still here, and do something even worse then death to him? If it was the case, Ginny had just ruined everything.

-

It was nearly midnight before Ginny snuck out of her dorm to go and see Alaraby in the astronomy tower.

She'd noticed all day long, that Malfoy had been showing up at the most inopportune times, that he'd been as good as stalking her, watching her casually, with sharp eyes that missed _nothing_.

It had been hellish, trying to move through the day, wanting to run to Alaraby, but wise enough to know she'd only be giving herself away.

So she'd waited, every minute ticking away painfully slow – and now the darkness was her advantage.

Ginny let herself out of the grumpily sleepy portrait of the Fat Lady, and hurried down the corridor, pausing at the slightest noise, going out of her way to stay in the shadows.

She was nearly crying by the time she reached the entrance to the astronomy tower, and almost slipped and broke her neck on the curving stairs as she ran up them, mindless to her own safety.

Bursting through the door into the classroom, she nearly collapsed in relief when she saw Alaraby waiting for her, in the shadows.

"Thank Merlin! Alaraby, I'm sorry I'm late, but I had to wait. I have so much to tell you… _it's all my fault_ – "

"What's wrong, Ginny?" he asked softly, his eyes glittering strangely.

"Alaraby, I-I've given you away, I – Draco, he's here, he knows!" Unable to stand, she sank into a heap on the floor, burying her face in her hands.

A swishing noise caught her ears, but she was too upset to notice Alaraby suddenly making _noise_ as he moved over to her.

"Don't fret, Ginny, _darling_…everything will be all right." A cold hand suddenly made contact with her heated cheek, and she looked up with a gasp.

"_You!_"

"Get your bloody hands off her, you twitchy little ferret, before I take you apart!"

Ginny stumbled to her feet, backing away as Alaraby suddenly made an appearance, a soft, nearly solid image that glowed in the darkness, and left a cool but comforting draft in his wake as he darted in front of her, hands fisted.

Draco, clad entirely in black, walked out of the shadows to stand in a spot of moonlight coming through the balcony.

"So it's true, then," he commented with a smug crossing of his arms over his chest. His pale eyes examined Ginny closely; too closely. "Little Ginny Weasley, all grown up – and cavorting with the ghost of my deceased uncle – and, what the devil! He looks just like me, as well...well, me with a nasty disfiguring scar, that is. How astonishingly disconcerting…"

-

_"One may smile and smile, and still be a villain." - Unknown _

_-_

TBC!

-


End file.
